‘Batman Begins’ brings much needed darkness back to Dark Knight

At first, it may be difficult to fully understand the genius of Christopher Nolan’s “Batman Begins,” simply because of the weighty reputation that precedes it. But when all is said and done, it captures the very essence of Batman—all of the apprehension and the intimidation that made him such an intriguing character in the first place—something that not even its namesake comics have always been able to tap.

Though the 1960s Adam West television series is often maligned, its campy, ridiculous tone served up some fairly clever criticism of the comics of the day, which really were that silly. Unfortunately, the series also colored public perception of comic books for several decades. After Frank Miller’s brilliant graphic novel, “The Dark Knight Returns,” brought Batman back into the darkness of vigilantism, a new movie series seemed primed for action, but Tim Burton (bless him for trying) couldn’t make the hero into anything more than a passive, gadget-laden figurehead, fighting villains more dynamic than he. Once Joel Schumacher got his hands on the franchise, the films were using cartoon sound effects, rubber-suited fetishism and neon lights, and we were back to square one.

But what “Batman Begins” recognizes is that we cannot be fascinated by Batman based on the lone fact that he is a recognizable superhero. Few can get away with that conceit (maybe Superman, but that’s only because he was the first), and Batman has long lost that novelty. Nolan treats the Dark Knight not as a moneymaking icon but as he was originally conceived, a beacon of hope built on a foundation of tragedy and terror. Nolan’s treatment extends to the characters’ world: Gotham City is once again a festering cesspool of greed and corruption where real danger exists. Watching “Batman Begins” is a cleansing experience; everything that Joel Schumacher and his ilk forged has been effectively washed away, but the movie gives such a uniquely dark spin on the characters that you might even forget that the character was ever in comics at all.

This is not to say that the movie forgets its roots. One of its most important aspects is its character-driven drama. Characters once treated with pleasant, if distracted attention—including Gotham’s lone good cop, Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) and butler Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Caine)—are at last given dramatic weight because Batman’s effect on others (good guys and criminals alike) are perhaps just as important as the hero himself.

Admittedly, there is a slight misstep: Bruce Wayne’s love interest, D.A.’s assistant Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes). It’s a good performance for a largely superfluous character, but the movie gets away with it by turning her into a representation of Wayne’s human side.

And that’s more important to the character than other filmmakers have understood. I would go so far to say that the Bat-actor of the moment, Christian Bale, is the essential Batman, simply because he creates a division between the Caped Crusader and Wayne, but realizes that both personae borrow from one another. Because this is an origin story, his Bruce Wayne is certainly more on display than Batman and may be more important than his gruff, grandstanding Dark Knight; there is visible struggle to contain a storm of emotions.

The basic structure of the origin remains the same: after witnessing the murder of his parents in a back alley, billionaire Bruce Wayne becomes a wayward globetrotter, fighting whatever lowlifes he encounters. He is soon confronted by Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson), a henchman working for the mysterious Ra’s al Ghul (Ken Watanabe) who believes that the young man could fit just fine in his “League of Shadows.” Wayne accepts Ducard’s offer to hone his skills, and he learns the importance of channeling his guilt and fear into the criminals he fights.

Unfortunately, after intensive training, Wayne discovers that al Ghul’s organization wishes to apply its sense of justice through a worldwide purge, and they violently part ways. Batman soon stumbles upon a plot to destroy Gotham from the inside out, which not only involves the name of Ra’s al Ghul but that of Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), an asylum psychologist infamous for his inhumane experiments, which involve donning a scarecrow’s mask and exposing his patients to hallucinogenic chemicals that heighten their sense of fear.

Though the choice of Scarecrow and Ra’s al Ghul as villains may seem to be a matter of simple convenience (being two of the few adversaries left unused in previous Bat films), they actually serve as the perfect characters to help establish new continuity for Batman. Unlike the Joker or the Riddler, Scarecrow is not a character that demands flamboyance or undivided attention; like Batman, his greatest power lies in manipulating dread in his opponents. Murphy plays him accordingly as a cold, calm (though unhinged) academic, but he is surprisingly effective as a character based on the concept of fear, especially considering that his burlap mask is often the only piece of “costume” that he actually wears.

The presence of Ra’s al Ghul raises the stakes for Batman, injecting the film with a sense of urgency and mystery that has rarely surfaced in past efforts. Once again, he serves as a subtler counterpoint to the hero: Just as Scarecrow is the antithesis of Batman’s methods, al Ghul’s “by any means necessary” school of thought is the antithesis of Batman’s ideals. It’s a drastic difference from how past villains were utilized merely as theatrical counterpoints. In fact, one may recall that the Joker’s evil plot in “Batman” has a passing resemblance to al Ghul’s. But somehow, its application in “Batman Begins” is much more ambiguous; the villain is doubly diabolical, and this Batman, after all, is new at his line of work, and generally unsure of himself. That makes all the difference. Coupled with the film’s general anything-goes attitude, there’s some genuine tension involved.

At first glance, the title itself, “Batman Begins,” is kind of terrible. Besides being something of a “clunk” on the vocal chords, it doesn’t really speak much for Batman as a character and kind of treats him more as an object. It’s only after watching the film itself that we realize it is actually the perfect title because the whole ordeal is a revitalization of Batman in general and how he appears on film. Most previous incarnations have been enjoyable in their own goofy ways, but for the pure spirit of the Dark Knight, this truly is a new beginning.